


the color of fate around your wrist

by snoflakesun



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 11:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14236416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoflakesun/pseuds/snoflakesun
Summary: In a world where soulmates are identified by the red timer on their wrists, the string of fate might be wound around their souls tighter than they thought.





	the color of fate around your wrist

**Author's Note:**

> a ~4K story that's literally just pure fluff  
> based on the AU where timers count down until you meet your soulmate for the first time
> 
> look at me contributing to this fandom, wow
> 
> hope you enjoy~

_the color of fate around your wrist_

—✯—

 

“What’s this?” Fushimi’s father had asked one day, roughly grabbing Fushimi’s wrist and turning it so his palm was facing up. “My little monkey has a timer? What a joke.”

“Who would ever want you?” He continued, taunting. “No one would even want to look at a damn useless monkey like you. A soulmate to you is just a joke.”

Fushimi stood there, no expression crossing over his pale face as Niki grabbed something off the dinner table that was nearby. “No one…”

The flask - a glass one - was raised. “Would want you,” the phrase was repeated, albeit muted under the sound of glass breaking against his wrist and the pain coursing through his body.

His arm was released, the blood starting to flow downwards towards his fingertips. The maniacal laughter that only his father could make filled the large mansion, and suddenly Fushimi wished he lived in a double-room apartment in the middle of Tokyo.

Fushimi clicked his tongue and ran towards the bathroom, the taunts following him as he shut the white door behind him. He examined his arm, the light causing the glass bits to reflect in his arm. He hurriedly grabbed a pair of tweezers and pulled the pieces out; luckily they were all quite easy to take out or they had fallen out during the run to the bathroom. The cuts didn’t look too severe; they didn’t seem to have cut into any arteries or veins. Fushimi winced as he cleaned his cuts with some cotton balls soaked in isopropyl alcohol. After disinfecting the cuts, he found out that the bandaids weren’t large enough to cover the wounds that were inflicted on his arm. He looked at his wrist, the bright red numbers that were still counting down stark against the pale skin of his arm and the darker red of the cuts that resided there.

The young boy’s eyes darted around the small room, landing on a pair of wristbands that were about three fourths the length of his arm. They were dark reddish-purple color, dark enough to cover the bloodstains that would occur if his wounds were to re-open.

They felt strange on his arms when he first put them on; he felt the need to take it off to let in some air- but he kept them on anyways. He went to school the next day as if nothing had happened, his eyes not focused on the teacher as the class started. The teacher started to introduce himself, talking about himself since it was the first day of middle school...

He excused himself to the bathroom halfway through the lecture, opting to play on his holographic computer instead of listening to the words that were just a jumbled mess. He closed the door to one of the stalls and sat on the toilet seat, a place he’d rather be than inside his own house. The J-Cube game Fushimi was playing popped up on the bluish-green hologram, and he started to play.

While he was tapping the keyboard, he heard a scrambling sound from the stall next to him. “Hey, what are you doing?” A voice sounded, causing Fushimi to nearly drop his keyboard.

He clicked his tongue as he turned to face the voice. The boy who called out to him had bright orange hair and hazel eyes that seemed to stare right into him. “...playing a game…”

“Ooh! Can I watch you?” The boy asked, scrambling down from the top of the stall, already unlocking his own. “All my friends… well ex-friends kind of ditched me today, so I need to make some new ones.”

Fushimi unlocked the door to his own stall, letting the other male in. “I don’t need friends,” he responded as the ginger turned and locked the stall door.

“Well, too bad! We’re going to be friends anyways. I’m Yata,” the other boy- Yata introduced himself.

“That’s not your full name, is it?” Fushimi questioned, not looking up from his J-Cube game.

“My first name doesn’t matter right now, does it?” Yata furrowed his brows. “You haven’t even told me your family name.”  
“...Fushimi.”

“Ah, Fushimi! Alright! Wait, don’t you sit next to me in class?” Yata walked over so that he was leaning over Fushimi’s shoulder to watch his game.

“A...anyways. You know how everyone in our class is talking about timers? What’s yours at? Mine’s been at zero since I walked into the classroom today.” The shorter boy questioned, before noticing the wristbands. “Oh, why do you wear those?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Fushimi responded before finishing the game. “I’ll tell you when it does, Misaki.”

“Ok- wait! How did you get my first name?”

“I have my ways, Mi-sa-ki.”

“At least tell me your first name!” Yata pouted. “It’s not fair if only you know my first name and I don’t. And call me Yata!”

“Saruhiko…” Fushimi averted his eyes from the bright-haired boy. “My name’s Fushimi Saruhiko.”

Yata grinned, before unlocking the door. “Well, I can’t wait to talk to you some more, Saru! I’ll see you around!” Was what Yata said before exiting, leaving Fushimi alone in the bathroom with the door open.

Fushimi sighed, before tugging off the wristband that was covering his right arm. He stared at the bright zero’s that were imprinted on his wrist, and they seemed to stare back.

 

—✯—

 

That was nearly eight years ago. Fushimi grumbled under his breath as he pulled on the wristbands that now only covered half his forearm. He was positioned next to Awashima, and they were all standing by, ready to attack at any moment. “Fushimi-kun,” Munakata’s serene yet commanding voice called out to him. “Is there any reason you keep playing with those wristbands?”

Fushimi clicked his tongue in annoyance. “None of your business,” he responded.

“Hoh,” Munakata said, amusement seeping into his voice. “If I remember correctly, your timer is supposed to be there too.”

“Captain, if you don’t have anything useful to say, I’d rather not hear your voice,” Fushimi snapped dryly, his eyes still focused on the enemies in front of them.

At that point, the Strains they were dealing with lept towards the Scepter 4 special operations team, causing their blue auras from their swords to flare and taking Munakata’s attention away from Fushimi.

Fushimi pulled one of his throwing knives from his sleeve, flipping it around on his hands as he waited for a Strain to leap from the fray. One that was dumb enough actually did, and she was pinned to the ground by his knives in less than a second. He didn’t say anything as Domyouji hurried over and cuffed the troublesome person.

They finished their jobs when the sun started to set. When they left, some of the buildings bore dents and obvious repercussions of fighting out on the street. Fushimi mindlessly scratched at his right arm.

 

“Ahh,” Yata sighed as he hopped onto the large couch that was located on the side of the Homra bar.

“What is it now, Yata-chan?” Kusanagi asked, not looking up from where he was polishing his drink glasses.

“Nothing,” the ginger sighed, swinging his legs on the top of the couch. “I went in the city today and all they’re talking about is soulmates. Guess it’s the new hot topic.”

“You haven’t met yours yet?” The blonde male questioned. “Your timer’s still running?”

“Nah,” Yata waved his hand dismissively as his beanie slipped off his head and landed softly on the ground. “My wrist has been at zero for as long as I can remember.”

Suoh, who had been standing by the stairs when Yata came in, grunted. “‘S probably a childhood friend then.”

“Ah?!” Yata made a surprised noise. “But all those friends were traitors to me! They straight up ditched me after going off to play on Jungle.”

Anna hopped off the stool that she was sitting at, pulling out a red marble from her dress’s pockets. She sighed, not even bothering to look at Yata. “Misaki is being stupid.”

“Whaddya mean?” Yata turned his body so he was sitting upright.

The albino girl didn’t answer as she pocketed the rose-colored marble.

 

—✯—

 

Fushimi clicked his tongue in annoyance when the signal that Homra was causing destruction rang. When the special operations group arrived, there seemed to be no Strains in sight. Fushimi had a slight suspicion that Suoh only did it to get Munakata’s attention. He absent-mindedly scratched at the dark red wristband that covered his timer. The Homra gang stood facing them, and Munakata repeated their code of honor, while the Red Clan repeated their chant of “No blood! No bone! No ash!”

The two clans clashed quickly, both Swords of Damocles appearing in the sky. Red and blue sparks flew across the streets and into the buildings, Fushimi grinning wildly as he charged at Yata. Whilst fighting, Fushimi looked backwards a second too late; and he was sent sprawling backwards against a wall. He clicked his tongue as he drew a knife from his sleeve, not noticing Yata’s panicked screams or the bricks that were falling from the top of the wall.

He was knocked out instantly, and Yata stood there, his arm outstretched, his voice caught in his throat. “...Saru?” He asked softly, not getting a response. “Saru! Saruhiko!”  
The ginger ran towards his childhood friend, pulling him from under the bricks to inspect the damage. It seemed somehow the third-in-command had fast enough reflexes to cover his head before the bricks hit him; angry red scratch marks were littered across his arms and tore through the bands that were around his arms. Yata shook him a few times, but no avail. “I’ll just take him back to my apartment then…” He muttered to himself while hauling the younger male onto his back.

Yata sent a text message to Kusanagi as he skated away from the fight scene on his skateboard towards his small apartment. Upon reaching the building, he gently lay Fushimi on the couch. Yata examined him after taking off the other’s glasses, noticing how much softer Fushimi’s face looked when he wasn’t grinning like a maniac or putting up a defensive front to show his superior and peers. Yata pulled off the tattered Scepter 4 uniform that was still on Fushimi’s body, and somehow dressed him with a hoodie that was too big for Yata and a random pair of pants that he found. Yata also somehow unlatched the knife holsters that Fushimi had at nearly every part of his body. He folded everything neatly and set them on the coffee table next to the couch, the two maroon wristbands laying on top, Fushimi’s glasses off to the side. It was only then when Yata spotted the marred timer on his wrist, the bright zeros flashing, albeit cut from the dark red scars that were scattered across his wrist.

_Saruhiko… has a soulmate?_

Yata wondered if that was the reason he wore those wristbands; he had been wearing them for as long as he could remember. He thought he pressed Fushimi about the issue before, but the other most likely dismissed it with a click of his tongue and aversion of the eyes. His own timer had been at zero since the start of middle school, after he stepped into the classroom. He had been searching for his own soulmate since then, but he hadn’t seen any of the girls with the timer that had stopped the same time that his did. _“You’ll know when you see them,”_ his mother had told him once, patting his head gently. She said that he has plenty of time to search for them. Yata suspected that his soulmate may or may not even be a girl, to which is mother only smiled gently, and told him that it would be who he thought he would want to live the rest of his life with. Yata sat on the arm of the couch, reminiscing on the past and looking at his best friend for just a bit longer before he retreated to his own room and took a break for the night.

 

—✯—

  
Sunlight filtered through the apartment window, the bright rays shining directly onto Fushimi’s face. He woke up with a headache, somewhat feeling like he was hungover. Except he wasn’t, he just woke up from a ton of bricks falling onto him. He assessed his surroundings, noticing it wasn’t the hospital, or his home, or the Scepter 4 dorms. He felt slightly off-set when he noticed the shattered timer staring back at him. His eyes widened and he started scrambling about for his wristbands.  
He found his glasses first, snapping them open before messily shoving them onto his face. Fushimi could hear the echoes of his father taunting him, scorning him, disowning him. His eyes darted around wildly before finally spotting the dark, tattered cloth that was set in front of him, and he quickly pulled it over his arm, the familiar pressure setting in onto his body.

  
Fushimi then remembered that he wasn’t at his own room, and looked around to see a familiar ginger cooking what seemed to be breakfast. “Mi...saki?” He asked, his voice hoarse from the dryness.

  
“Eh? Saru? You’re awake?” Yata turned around, a red apron tied around his waist.

  
The older used a pair of chopsticks to push the contents out of the pan and onto a plate, before he set the pan back and took off the apron. He walked to the coffee table where Fushimi was sitting at, and set the pancakes in front of him. “Here, eat.”

  
“Why am I here?” Fushimi asked, pulling the plate towards him. “Thanks for the meal.”

  
“You’re here because,” Yata started, his mouth full of pancake, “You were being dumb and ignored my warning and then got hit with bricks.”

  
“...” Fushimi looked downwards towards the coffee table, seeing an altered reflection staring back.

  
“Anyways, why didn’t you tell me?” Yata had an edge to his voice, causing Fushimi to look up.

  
“Tell you what?”

  
“You know…” Yata looked down at his own timer for a second. “Your timer.”

  
“... you saw it?” Fushimi asked, clicking his tongue.

  
“Yeah. What’s with it? Why didn’t you ever tell me what your timer reached zero? Who’s your soulmate?”

  
Fushimi looked at Yata with an exasperated glare, mentally repeating the fact that it was _him_ , it was him all along. He opted with not answering, to which rewarded him with Yata yelling at him from across the glass table. Fushimi watched Yata with a soft look of fondness on his face, to which Yata thought he could get used to.

The two of them separated ways quickly; Fushimi left after getting a call from Awashima. Yata stayed in his apartment a tad bit longer, before grabbing his skateboard and heading towards the bar.

  
“Is Fushimi alright?” Kusanagi asked as Yata stepped inside, setting his belongings off to the side.

  
“Mm,” Yata hummed noncommittally. “Think so.”

  
“What happened?” Kamamoto asked. “You disappeared yesterday too.”

  
“That dumb monkey got hit in the head with some bricks,” Yata heaved a sigh.

  
Anna pulled on Yata’s wrist, getting his attention. “...Saruhiko,” she said quietly, her high voice barely heard.

  
“Hmm? What about that damn traitor?” Yata asked.

  
The girl sighed, letting go of what she was holding.

  
“What?” Yata asked again, furrowing his brow and tilting his head.

  
Anna stared back at him with her blank eyes, a look of annoyance creeping into them. Yata turned uneasily, staring at his blank red zeros that were branded on his wrist. He tried to remember what had happened on the first day that he finally saw his numbers close in.

 

_“Be safe!” His mother called as he started making his way to school. “Come back after school too! Don’t linger after school for too long!”_

  
_Yata had transferred the year before, and today marked the new start of a school year. He wasn’t excited about that though; he was excited about the fact that his numbers were counting down, down, and they seemed to be close to zero. There were only around thirty minutes left, and Yata started seeing people who would be his schoolmates slowly merging into the road that led to their school._

  
_Many of the students were talking to their friends, comparing their timers. Some let out surprised and excited screams when theirs reached zero. “It’s common to meet your soulmate during middle school or high school,” his mom told him. “After that, they try to look for their soulmate because they only had a quick glimpse at them or was just in the same room as them, but didn’t know. Years pass, and once they finally meet, they have already matured and start a serious relationship._

  
_“People who also aren’t timed or people who really do not want to be with their soulmates also can be in a relationship. It’s not as common though. Well, that’s enough for today. You’ll understand once you get older,” She patted his head as she turned off the light that was on his bedside drawer. “Good night.”_  
  
_Yata shook his head as he started finding his way to his classroom. Less than a minute now, less than a minute. Boys shoved past him and girls, chatting about, held tightly onto their books as they wove around. The timer kept ticking, and each second seemed to pass slowly. Yata made his way to his seat in the correct classroom, and he looked up-_

  
_and his timer stopped._

  
_Not that he knew it, of course. He was too busy studying all the people in the classroom, his eyes scanning for someone who he thought could have the possibility of being his soulmate. His eyes quickly skimmed over the boys, as he thought he would always have a girl as his soulmate._

  
_His mother smiled when he asked the question after returning home. “It’s actually quite common for same gender people to be soulmates. It’s who you will be happiest with.”_

  
_The next day he returned to the school, this time assessing the males in the classroom. But his timer had already stopped the day before, and so he would have no clue._

  
_‘I’ll worry about it another day,’ Yata pushed the thought into the back of his mind._

  
_He sat down at his seat near the back of the room, and didn’t pay much attention to the teacher as they started teaching._

  
_‘Another day…’_

 

“Yata-chan?” Kusanagi asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “Yata…?”

  
Yata made a surprised noise as he jerked back into reality. “Ah…” he said bashedly, lowering his head.

  
“Are you okay?” The bar owner asked, shining a wine glass.

  
“Yeah… Just… I’ll be back soon!” He darted out of the bar, grabbing his skateboard along the way.

  
“Stupid, stupid,” Yata muttered to himself. “I am so stupid…”

  
He skated down the past the bustling city and its many people, to the outskirts of the metropolitan area. It had to be him, of course it was. There was no one else in their entire school that Yata could even remember- his mother said his soulmate would be someone who would make him happy and someone who he would want to spend the rest of his days with.

  
_It was all a lie,_ Yata thought to himself as red sparks flew from his skateboard. _I didn't think someone like him would make me happy._

 

He stopped in front of the large metal gates that represented the headquarters for Scepter 4. He nervously pressed on the intercom, waiting for someone to pick up. “Who is it?” The voice sounded on the other side, static messing up the tone of the voice. Yata thought it sounded a lot like the acting captain, Akiyama.

  
“Yatagarasu,” Yata responded, clutching his skateboard close to him, the awkward talk with the Blue making him nervous.

  
“From Homra?”

  
“Obviously, what other ‘Yatagarasu’ is there?”

  
“What’s your business?”

  
“Why do you care?”

  
A sigh sounded from the other side. “Please come in.”

  
The metal doors opened with a creak, Yata slowly going in, cautious to his surroundings. The building towered over him, and he took a deep breath before entering the headquarters. Fushimi stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. “So? What’s gotten into you today, Misaki?”

  
“Shut up,” Yata averted his eyes. He pulled on the taller male’s wrists, dragging him out of the Scepter 4 territory. Fushimi initially stumbled along, before regaining his balance and walking behind Yata as they made their way through maze of streets and buildings.

  
They stopped a park, the one they used to frequent when they were still middle schoolers. Yata climbed onto one of the structures, Fushimi following behind him. “...Misaki?” Fushimi asked, slightly concerned.

  
“Why…” Yata started, out of breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  
“Tell you what?”

  
Yata shot a glare at him. “I’m not playing around, Saru.”

  
Fushimi sighed, closing his eyes and tilting his head back so that he was facing the sky. “It wasn’t important.”

  
“Of course it was important, what do you mean?” Yata retorted. “You’re my soulmate. That’s important, don’t you think?”

  
Fushimi hummed, sitting back upright to face Yata. “Well now you know, and I know, so what’s wrong?”

  
Yata grabbed Fushimi’s wrist, pulling off the wristband that covered it. “Why didn’t you tell me…? What happened?”

  
“...It was Niki. He… he broke glass against my wrist.”

  
Yata tensed up beside him, before running his thumb against the scars that marred the bright red timer. “Saruhiko…” he murmured gently.

  
Fushimi leaned his head slightly against Yata’s shoulder, and Yata whispered, “It kinda seems like we’re back in middle school, huh…”

  
“Nn…” Fushimi sighed, closing his eyes, basking in the sunlight.

 

The two of them sat in comfortable silence as the sun started to set. Reddish hues were cast over the city and Yata stretched, reaching his arms over his head. Fushimi watched as the hem of his shirt was lifted slightly, exposing some of Yata’s tanned skin. “I’m going back to Misaki’s today,” Saruhiko said as he stood up, slightly hunching his shoulders.

  
“Ehh? Don’t decide things on your own, damn Saru.”

  
Fushimi just cast a glance at Yata before jumping off the play structure. “Hmm, are you going to drive me away then?”

  
“Tch!” Yata looked away. “Fine.”

  
Yata made a move to grab Fushimi’s wrist, starting to pull him in the direction of his home. Fushimi smiled a little bit, shifting his hand so that his fingers laced with Yata’s. The shorter boy’s face was dusted a dark red hue as he avoided eye contact with Fushimi. Their walk to Yata’s house was silent, but Yata’s hand tightened around Fushimi’s a few times, just to make sure that he was still there.

  
Yata pushed the door open to his apartment after they had arrived, and he flopped onto the couch that was near the entrance. Fushimi sat down next to him, observing Yata’s home. The shorter male started to feel drowsy from the day’s events, and his breathing slowed as he murmured, “would things be different if we found out earlier?”

  
Fushimi sighed, while looking at his soulmate fondly. He carded his fingers through the ginger hair, and thought to himself, _no, it probably wouldn’t_.

 

 _-the color of fate around your wrist-_  

 

tumblr:[snoflakesun](https://snoflakesun.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> ahh, i literally had no plot idea throughout this entire story... though i hope it was worth the read!  
> ehh comments and kudos are appreciated,,, 
> 
> K7S is coming out soon! excited!!


End file.
